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acid-ixx · 5 months ago

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ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

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favouritedave · 1 year ago

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if I was working a job that required me to be a complete and utter piece of shit to the people around me I'd just kill myself but that's just me I guess

#this is to the person who said i cant wear my shoes at work because theyre not all blavk #do you get joy from this. is this a fufilling job for you. do you see yourself in this position in the future.#do you enjoy seeing the panic and worry and sadness fill a persons mind when you tell them they have to buy something within the next 24hrs #unless they are to face disciplinary action by their managers #do you enjoy watching near minimum wage workers squirm. their bodies tired and exhausted yet continuing to work.#do you enjoy the suffering you see in each store you visit. the problems you will see but never help #i do mean it tho if i had a job that was literally just nit picking and angering people under you i would just kill myself #no amount of money could make me be even just content with making others lives a living hell with demands that do not impact their work #all black shoes (and no trainers) will not make me work faster. it does not improve jow rhe store looks #i understand the company aims for everyone to look the same and be the same but i promise no customer has ever looked at my shoes and said #oh well. that person isnt suitable for this job. i should go and tell their manager about this. im not even sure that they work here #the only time a mention of shoes is necessary is when someone should have steel capped shoes or somethin #even then. thats ppe and if required is something the company must either provide or compensate for if bought by the colleague #treat workers better and maybe we wont actively curse you out and chat shit. maybe we'll do whats asked too. maybe

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ahundredtimesover · 11 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that.

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—”

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.

He’s unfairly handsome.

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

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abdquffa9 · 1 month ago

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🙏 🚨🚨 A child's joy in providing him with milk thanks to your donations 🚨🚨🙏🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉

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Watch the joy of my little nephew after we provided him with milk that was cut off and expensive, and we provided some frying oil, pasta, rice and some basic things, and we set up tents and provided wood and tarpaulin to protect us from the rain, all thanks to your support, so continue to support us to ease our suffering and save the lives of children from death❗️❗️.

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hoshifighting · 11 months ago

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Aphrodisiac Liquor

— Synopsis: Where you're out for a night with your friends, and you decide to try an aphrodisiac liquor, feeling the warmth gradually spreading through your body, your best friend Mingyu starts to appear a little too sexy. — Word Count: 5.1k — WARNINGS: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, chocking, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, horny asf reader, fucked out Mingyu, objetification (Mingyu mentions himself as reader's fuck toy), and dick riding.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, enveloping the dance floor in a rhythmic energy that matched the collective excitement of the reunited friends. You stood in the center of the vibrant chaos, surrounded by familiar faces and the lively atmosphere of the night.

Mingyu, your best friend, flashed a wide grin as he clinked his drink against yours. "Cheers to finally getting the gang back together!" he shouted over the music, laughter twinkling in his eyes. The last few gatherings had always felt incomplete, someone missing here or there, but tonight was different. Everyone was present, and the joy was palpable.

Woozi, the voice of reason in your group, raised an eyebrow as he observed the already empty bottles scattered across the table. "I hope you two are keeping your promise about not drinking too much," he teased, sipping his own drink with a smirk.

You and Mingyu exchanged guilty glances, aware that your resolve was already wavering. However, compared to the chaos that was unfolding around you, with Dokyeom dancing his way through the crowd like a human pinball, Seungkwan engaging in animated conversations that almost turned into arguments, and Soonyoung returning from the bar with two more bottles of liquor in hand, you and Mingyu felt relatively composed.

"Alright, I admit, maybe we'll take it easy," you chuckled, watching as Dokyeom narrowly avoided another collision on the dance floor.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, but his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Just a little more won't hurt, right?" he said, pouring a modest amount into his glass.

As the night progressed, the club transformed into a haven of laughter, dancing, and unrestrained merriment. The DJ played a mix of old favorites and current hits, prompting everyone to let loose on the dance floor. Woozi found himself reluctantly pulled into a lively dance circle, while Dokyeom continued his mission to navigate the crowd with unpredictable dance moves.

As Soonyoung proudly presented the array of liquor bottles on the table, your eyes were drawn to one particular bottle covered in an intriguing green and purple cloth. Curiosity piqued, you reached for a shot cup and poured yourself a small measure of the mysterious concoction. The liquid gleamed in the dim light of the club, promising an adventure for your taste buds.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you took a shot, savoring the sweet burn that spread across your tongue. The flavor was unique, a blend of sweetness and warmth that left a tingling sensation in its wake. Intrigued, you picked up the bottle to read more about the drink. Just under the bold name "Har" was a smaller inscription that caught your attention – "aphrodisiac drink."

You chuckled, dismissing it as a mere marketing gimmick. Placing the bottle back on the table, you rejoined the conversation with Chan, discussing music, life, and everything in between. However, as the minutes passed, you couldn't shake the subtle change in the atmosphere around you.

As Chan's voice faded into the background, your focus shifted to an inexplicable sensation coursing through your veins. A warmth, almost like a surge of electricity, tingled beneath your skin, spreading from the center of your being. Mingyu's concerned gaze met yours as you struggled to steady yourself.

"I-I'm okay," you managed to stammer out, trying to mask the sudden rush of sensations that seemed to intensify with every passing second.

But as Mingyu reached out a hand, concerned etched on his face, the effects of the mysterious drink became undeniable. Your heart raced, a flush painting your cheeks as your breaths quickened. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt – that bottle, hidden under the cloth, wasn't just any liquor. It was something more potent, something that had triggered a profound reaction within you.

"Maybe it wasn't just a slogan," you muttered, feeling both flustered and perplexed by the unexpected turn of events.

Mingyu's eyes widened in understanding as he glimpsed the bottle's label. His eyebrows shot up, mirroring your own astonishment. "An aphrodisiac drink? Seriously?" He sulks at you.

The room seemed to spin slightly as your senses heightened, and you struggled to regain composure. Mingyu steadied you, concerned. "We need to get you some fresh air," he suggested, guiding you away from the table and the increasingly curious gazes of your friends.

The air outside the club was cool against your heated skin, a welcome relief from the whirlwind of sensations that had taken hold. Mingyu hovered nearby, offering a steadying presence as you tried to regain your equilibrium.

"Is it getting any better?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, feeling the effects slowly subside. "Yeah, I think so..."

The two of you shared a glance, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring the moment. Mingyu chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Note to self: avoid mysterious cloth-covered bottles from now on."

Mingyu's suggestion to head home triggered a mix of frustration and amusement within you. "I'm fine, really," you protested, your voice carrying a hint of irritation. The effects of the drink had subsided, leaving you feeling more embarrassed than anything else, but Mingyu's protectiveness had a way of both comforting and irking you at the same time.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on. You were practically ready to start a revolution back there," he teased, nudging you gently. "Let's not have you causing chaos in the club."

With a begrudging nod, you relented, acknowledging the logic in his words despite your reluctance. The taxi ride was a blur of streetlights and passing cars, the cool glass of the window offering a soothing sensation against your forehead as you leaned against it.

Mingyu sat beside you, occasionally stealing glances to ensure you were alright. "I know it's a bit annoying, but I'd rather get you home safe," he said, his tone softened by genuine concern.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude mingling within you. "I appreciate it, even if I'm not a fan of being babied," you admitted, offering a small smile in acknowledgment of his efforts.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence, the cityscape passing by as the taxi made its way toward your destination. Despite the unusual turn of events and Mingyu's overprotective nature, there was a sense of reassurance in having a friend who cared so deeply.

As the taxi rolled along the city streets, the heat returned, and your discomfort grew. The air conditioning in the taxi seemed to be struggling against the warmth, leaving you feeling a bit flustered. Mingyu, ever resourceful, rummaged through the pocket behind the driver's seat and emerged triumphantly with a flyer.

He grinned mischievously, turning the flyer into an impromptu fan. With a flourish, he began fanning you, creating a makeshift breeze that elicited a burst of laughter from both of you. The absurdity of the situation and Mingyu's quick thinking turned the taxi into a scene of amusement rather than discomfort.

Arriving home, the cool air of your apartment was a welcome relief from the residual warmth of the night. Mingyu, seemingly accustomed to the layout of your place, strolled in as if it were his own. The comfort of having him around, especially on a random Tuesday or after an eventful night, was a testament to the strength of your friendship.

As you disappeared into the bathroom for a much-needed cold bath, the sound of the TV coming to life echoed through the apartment. Mingyu had settled onto the couch, making himself at home with ease. The flickering light from the TV cast a soft glow on the living room, creating a cozy ambiance.

The cold water worked wonders against the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink, leaving you feeling refreshed – but not feeling like yourself, since the discomfort between your legs was still noticeable.

As you settled onto the couch beside Mingyu, he handed you a cold bottle of water, his concern for your well-being evident. The movie played on the screen, and you tried to focus on the plot, letting the scenes unfold before you. However, your attention kept drifting to the person seated next to you.

Mingyu's features seemed to catch the light in just the right way – the well-combed black hair, the slightly open buttons of his shirt, and the casual roll of his sleeves revealing the tan skin of his forearms. Your gaze couldn't help but linger on the details that seemed to intensify in the dim glow of the TV. His thick thighs encased in denim drew your eyes, and the flickering light played on his lips, making them seem unusually inviting.

Caught in the moment, your eyes met his, and a sudden awareness passed between you. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, attempting to redirect your thoughts back to the movie. You scolded yourself for entertaining such thoughts, trying to dismiss the images that lingered in your mind.

Mingyu, however, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a curious look. "Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes lingering on yours.

You nodded quickly, taking a sip of the cold water to distract yourself. "Yeah, just got lost in thought for a moment."

You fought to maintain your focus on the movie, but an undeniable sweetness lingered on your palate, a reminder of the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink. The cold bath, despite its earlier refreshing touch, seemed futile in quelling the simmering heat beneath your skin. – To be honest, now the bath didn't work shit – It pulsed through you, intensifying with each passing moment.

Your breath, once steady, now betrayed your internal turmoil. It hitched as your cheeks burned, a telltale sign of the heightened sensations coursing through your body. The discomfort between your legs became an increasingly insistent presence, pussy throbbing demanding attention.

Mingyu, sitting casually beside you, seemed to emit an allure that was impossible to ignore. His features, accentuated by the soft glow of the TV, drew your attention like a moth to a flame.

Your body seemed to betray your attempts to remain composed. Mingyu, your trusted friend, had always been someone you found attractive, but in this moment, every detail about him seemed to amplify that allure.

The internal struggle reached its peak, and you couldn't ignore the discomfort any longer. Closing your legs tightly, you attempted to find some relief, the unbidden desire making focus impossible. In a moment of desperation, you closed your eyes, hoping to regain some semblance of control.

Mingyu, sensing something amiss, took a deep breath and voiced his concern. "Are you really okay?" he asked, genuine worry etched on his face.

Opening your eyes, you knew that you looked far from composed, also known as, absolutely fucked. The internal chaos was surely mirrored in your expression. Mingyu, in his caring nature, reached a hand towards your forehead, then gently slid it down to your neck, checking for signs of fever or any indication of what might be troubling you.

As his hand moved across your skin, he could feel the heat emanating from your body, but the cause remained uncertain. The brief journey from your forehead to your neck sent shivers down your spine, and he noticed your body's involuntary response.

Meeting your gaze with a look of defeat, Mingyu asked, "What am I going to do with you?" The vulnerability of the moment was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected turn the night had taken. Mingyu, torn between concern for your well-being and the confusing dynamics of the situation, faced a dilemma that neither of you had anticipated. The unspoken tension lingered, leaving both of you suspended in a moment that seemed to redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

You found a temporary reprieve by supporting your elbow on your knees, your face cradled in your hands, desperately trying to manage the sensations coursing through your body. Mingyu, sensing your distress, gently asked, "Do you need any help?" His hand rested on your knee, the touch seemingly innocent, lacking any intentional undertones.

Lifting your torso, you looked at him with an expression that conveyed both suffering and confusion. "How?" you managed to utter, the desperation evident in your voice.

He pondered for a moment, sincerity coloring his words. "I honestly don't know," Mingyu admitted, his eyes searching for a solution to the unforeseen dilemma.

Closing your eyes tightly, you breathed loudly, attempting to steady yourself. In a moment of impulsivity, you grabbed his wrist, your eyes still shut, and began guiding his hand higher and higher.

Mingyu's eyes widened, his attempts to maintain composure faltering. "You're not in the right mind right now," he warned, trying to inject a note of reason into the situation.

You, however, remained persistent, continuing to guide his hand higher with a suffered expression. Mingyu felt a mixture of confusion and a growing awareness that the dynamics of the moment were shifting. He struggled to compose himself, realizing that the unexpected turn of events was challenging not only for you but for him as well.

The charged atmosphere enveloped both of you as you laid your head on Mingyu's shoulder, intertwining your hands together. His touch on your thigh was hesitant, his caress slow and deliberate. Your breath, warm against his neck, sent shivers down his spine.

Mingyu bit his lip, deep in thought as he analyzed the situation. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken desires that hung between you two. The grip on your thigh tightened involuntarily as he contemplated the ways to help you, the weight of his own internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow.

A soft moan escaped your lips, a sound that resonated through both of you. Mingyu, caught off guard by the effect his touch had on you, felt his body respond involuntarily. His grip tightened on your thigh, and a subtle warmth spread through him.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, you sulked sultrily, your voice a low murmur that made Mingyu's body react. "What are you waiting for?" you whispered, your sultry tone sending a wave of heat through him.

Caught between the tension of the moment and the realization that there was only one effective way to help you, – fuck you until you're fully satisfied – Mingyu hesitated.

"Fuck, Y/N, I don't know," Mingyu uttered, his frustration and arousal intermingling in his voice. The charged tension in the air seemed to escalate as you lifted your face, bringing it dangerously close to his lips. Your noses brushed together, a subtle and tantalizing gesture that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Please Mingyu, please…" Your sultry tone continued to play with his senses, teasing and arousing. Mingyu, caught in the moment, found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. He managed to steal a glance at your tank top, the falling straps exposing your shoulder and the hardened nipple teasingly visible through the fabric.

In an unexpected twist, the charged atmosphere culminated in a daring move. Mingyu suddenly felt the touch of your lips on his, and his initial surprise transformed into a profound connection. Before fully giving in to the kiss, he took a momentary glance at you, a silent agreement passing between your locked eyes.

As your lips melded together, Mingyu's hand instinctively found its way to your hair, holding it gently. The kiss deepened, his mouth opening to caress your tongue with his in a dance of shared desire. The world around you seemed to fade away as you both melted into each other's arms, the unspoken tension finding its release in the passionate connection that had unexpectedly blossomed between you.

The intensity of the moment heightened as Mingyu's hand ventured inside your tank top, exploring the warmth of your skin, almost burning the skin of his hand. His fingers danced across your belly, tracing the contours of your waist, before finding their way to cup your breast. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and the heat radiating from your skin seemed to intensify under his caress.

Mingyu, his voice a low whisper, remarked on the undeniable heat emanating from your body. "Fuck baby, you're so hot…"

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips as Mingyu's touch on your breast elicited a visceral response. You acknowledged his observation with a sultry tone, admitting, "I know," the words laden with desire. The unspoken tension between you two reached a boiling point as you confessed, "I need you so bad Gyu!"

Mingyu, propelled by a sense of urgency, swiftly guided you to the large couch. Without hesitation, he laid you down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The fervor of the moment heightened as his hands moved with purpose, skillfully pulling down the elastic of your shorts and panties, freeing your lower half in one fluid motion.

Mingyu wasted no time, his fingers skillfully exploring inside your wet sensitive folds, making squelching sounds reaching your ears, while his thumb worked circles on your clit, making your eyes close – finally a relief for your body – and Mingyu notices that too, making him smile at the way your body was slowly stopping from being tense.

"Is it helping?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

You nodded, acknowledging the relief his actions had brought, but the sensations left you craving more. "It's good, but I need more," you admitted, the desire for something deeper and more intense evident in your voice.

He teased, recalling your earlier affirmation that it was enough. "Well, you said it was enough," Mingyu remarked, playfully challenging your request for more.

Your plea for increased intensity grew more urgent, and he paused, halting his movements abruptly. The sudden stop made you cry out, the rush of sensations abruptly cut off. "I need more Mingyu-ah!" you begged, your voice filled with longing and a desperate plea for the heightened pleasure you desired.

The atmosphere crackled with a palpable intensity as Mingyu, driven by the escalating desire, hastily removed his shirt, buttons scattering in the living room like a visual manifestation of the urgency in the air. His pants followed suit, tugged down with an eagerness that echoed the building tension between you two.

Just when you anticipated he would hover over you, Mingyu surprised you by getting down instead. From this new vantage point, he looked up at you, your legs spread, his gaze locked onto your aroused form, red cheeks, your pussy glistening, hair gluing on your skin and parted lips.

Mingyu's words, spoken in a low, husky tone, carried a mix of surprise and desire. "I should've seen this coming, but... You look so wet," he remarked, his gaze shifting from your face to your core.

Mingyu, his eyes still locked on the intimate revelation before him, couldn't help but voice the question lingering in his mind. "Is it because of the drink?" he asked, a hint of concern and curiosity in his voice.

You met his gaze, a mix of honesty and desire reflected in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, acknowledging the role the mysterious drink had played in heightening the sensations coursing through your body. But then, with a subtle but deliberate emphasis, you added, "But also because of you."

The weight of your admission hung in the air, and Mingyu, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and arousal, sought confirmation. "For real?" he asked, seeking assurance.

In response, you simply nodded. Mingyu, fueled by the shared desire and the realness of the moment, wasted no time. His mouth found your core, and the sudden sensation made you jolt, "Ah! Mingyu s-shit!" a gasp escaping your lips as you called out his name.

He rolls his tongue around your throbbing and puffy clit, before sucking it between his red swollen lips. Mingyu's hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you closer and causing you to slide along the couch. The sudden movement left you in a state of disbelief, and your hands instinctively flew to cover your face. The realization that your best friend was now intimately between your legs, eating you out, overwhelmed you, and a mixture of shock and pleasure lingered in the air. "Fuck- gonna cum…" Your voice cracked.

The rush of sensations made your thighs involuntarily squeeze around Mingyu's head, a surge of pleasure intermingled with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. He shot you a glance, a mix of amusement and appreciation for the sudden pressure, as he continued to lavish attention on your most sensitive places. Your feet brushed against the skin of his back, the physical contact adding another layer of intimacy.

The warmth of your release against his mouth sent a shiver through Mingyu, the sensation exhilarating. The way you arched your back, screaming, calling out his name, in a tone he'd never heard you call before, made his cock twitch inside of his boxers. Mingyu found himself reveling in the sensation, realizing that this uncharted territory had opened up a new, unexplored dimension in your friendship.

Mingyu, still basking in the aftermath of the shared moment, took a moment to peel off his boxers. His arousal was evident, and the sight of his cock slapping against his abdomen left you watching in awe.

Feeling a surge of desire, you looked at him with a newfound boldness and asked, "Can I ride you?"

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed, the sound filled with a mix of amusement and desire, before responding, "Sure, baby."

The air was thick with anticipation as you straddled Mingyu's thighs, his desire evident in the teasing glare he directed at you. Taking control, you began to pump his dick with deliberate movements, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Guiding him to your entrance, you felt the stretch as he entered you, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. The ease with which he slid into you only intensified the raw pleasure of the moment. Mingyu's moan of approval, a low and satisfied "Hmmm" echoed through the room.

With your hips rolling in a rhythmic dance, you couldn't resist the urge to pull your top up, exposing more of your tits. However, Mingyu, seemingly wanting control, pushed your hands away. His fingers began to flicker over your exposed nipples, a teasing and tantalizing touch that made you mewl in response.

Mingyu's words, a command laden with desire, hung in the air. "Use me as your little toy," he urged.

The suggestion lingered, and you, caught in the intensity of the moment, questioned if he was truly willing. "Will you let me?" you asked, smiling mischievous while your hips worked harder.

His response came in a low, throaty moan, filled with both need and consent. "Yes, I'm yours. Use me as much as you want," Mingyu declared.

"Bet."

As you lowered your body, sinking your hips harder with each motion, Mingyu's grip on your waist tightened. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving the promise of bruises. Mingyu, fueled by the idea of being your little fuck toy, couldn't contain the rush of sensations overwhelming his mind.

The rhythm of your hips took on a frantic, fast pace, causing Mingyu to question whether his legs could even leave the couch. The intensity of the experience pushed him to the brink, as his cries grew louder, bordering on uncontrollable, he begged you to slow down, fearing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "Shit b-babe slow down!" His plea held a desperate undertone, a warning of what was to come if the pace continued.

In response, you choked him gently with one hand, a firm yet commanding gesture. "Be quiet," you whispered, a note of authority in your tone. The threat of a noise complaint lingered in the air.

The sensation of your hand wrapped around Mingyu's throat, barely cutting off his air, made him gasp for breath. The delicate balance between pleasure and restriction sent waves of a delicious intensity through him. As you rolled your eyes, feeling your orgasm approaching, the grip on him tightened, and he arched his back, attempting to hold onto his own release.

The climax approached with an overwhelming force as your pussy crushed Mingyu's cock, inducing spasms of pleasure that rippled through his body. Your moans intertwined with the thick tears rolling down your cheeks, a culmination of the release from the tension that had built up throughout the night. The intensity hit like a tidal wave, leaving you feeling momentarily unstable.

Sensing your need for support, Mingyu struggled in pleasure to get up. He reached out to you, holding you close as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, crying out his name.

"Yeah, baby, I know it feels too good, right? I got you," Mingyu murmured, his words a reassuring melody in the aftermath of the intense orgasm.

Driven by a lingering desire that had occupied your mind since the beginning of the night, – suck Mingyu's cock until you're unconscious – you decided to act on your newfound craving. Eagerly, you untangled yourself from Mingyu's embrace, his stability still offering support as you made your way towards your intended destination.

Your eagerness didn't leave room for hesitation. With a toss of your hair to the side, you seized the opportunity, pushing Mingyu's cock deep into your throat. The sudden, intense action caught him off guard, and his mouth opened wide in surprise, not expecting the eager and daring move you had just made.

The room was filled with a mix of sounds—the wet, rhythmic movements, his gasps of pleasure, and the unspoken understanding that the night had taken yet another unexpected turn.

A prolonged "Fuuuuck" escaped from Mingyu's lips as you continued to bob your head incessantly, the wet, rhythmic sounds of your slurping echoing through the room. The intensity of your actions caused his cheeks to flush, and the pleasure you were delivering was almost overwhelming. Mingyu, lost in the sensations you were creating, felt himself melting into the couch, completely absorbed in the pleasure of the moment.

Mingyu's tip pushed against the back of your throat, your lips grazing his pelvis. He held onto the material of the couch, feeling the tension radiate through his entire body. The moment climaxed with the forceful release of his cum, the spurts going down your throat.

"Oh my god Y/N!" As you continued to suck, Mingyu's body flinched in the aftermath of his release. His voice, now thin and breathless, pleaded with you to stop.

"Please, stop," he managed to utter, the intensity of the sensations still coursing through him.

You allowed Mingyu's soft cock to fall gently onto his stomach with a faint pop of your lips. Surveying his body, now laid defeated on the couch, you asked, "You okay?"

He nodded, his hands finally releasing their tight grip on the couch fabric. "Yeah," he affirmed, his breaths still slightly uneven.

Mingyu, his voice tinted with a mix of surprise and realization, whimpered, "You were horny as fuck, weren't you?"

A smile played on your lips as you replied, "Sorry if it was too much."

Exhausted, Mingyu closed his eyes and confessed, grinning "I loved it."

Mingyu, with a tired but content sigh, raised his arm, reaching out to pull you into a comfortable embrace. You settled against his chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. The living room was scattered with discarded clothes, a testament to the intensity of the night that had unfolded.

As sleep began to claim both of you, Mingyu's rhythmic breathing served as a calming lullaby. His fingers gently traced patterns through your hair as you drifted into a peaceful slumber on his chest.

The morning light filtering through the curtains woke you from your slumber, accompanied by the gentle sensation of Mingyu's fingers tracing patterns on your back. As you lifted your head and rubbed your eyes, you realized you probably didn't look your best. Thankful that Mingyu had seen you wake up before, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking a moment's refuge.

With a husky voice, Mingyu spoke up, breaking the quiet morning atmosphere. "I'm definitely buying another bottle of that liquor for us," he declared, the memory of the eventful night prompting a teasing smile.

The shared sentiment about the unforgettable night echoed in his words, encapsulating the adventurous journey you and Mingyu had embarked on. The unspoken understanding and the newfound closeness between you two lingered in the air, marking the beginning of a bond that had evolved beyond the boundaries of mere friendship.

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fyodoro · 6 months ago

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UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY

-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)

Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics

Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.

Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.

Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”

However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.

Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.

Hayato Suo’s in love.

“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.

He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”

“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.

Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”

“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.

“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.

Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.

“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”

Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.

“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.

“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”

The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”

His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.

“Su-“

“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”

“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.

“Oh trust me, it does.”

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.

“(Name)?!”

“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.

He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.

“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“

The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.

You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.

“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.

“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.

“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.

You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.

“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.

“Interesting…”

Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.

“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”

You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.

“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”

Suo almost broke, and you laughed.

“Woah, is Suo blushing?”

“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.

Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”

The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.

Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.

‘Quite the loverboy.’

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbre #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbre x reader #windbreaker fluff #suo hayato #suou hayato #suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo fluff #dor writes

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lilacgaby · 2 months ago

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˗ˏˋexcuses, excuses ✩

pairing: thirdyear->prohero!katsuki x reader

synopsisꨄ: katsuki had left you, overwhelmed by the situation you two were now tied to. now, when he finally reaches his dreams, he realizes victory doesn't taste as sweet without you.

katsuki and you were dating for as long as you could remember.

he had asked you out by stuffing a handmade card into an all might trading card pack, you pulled it out and gasped at how cute it was. the card showing you two going on a date at a picnic, the stats under showing how strong you'd be together, as a couple.

it had really set the tone for the sunshine and rainbows relationship you two had so far.

you two always had a habit of going too far though. sleeping in too late and getting caught by mr. aizawa in rooms you weren't supposed to be in, him feeding you his spicy food that honestly should not be allowed on shelves, staying out way past curfew training and getting detention together,

oh. and getting you pregnant on your anniversary as third years.

you were throwing up an obscene amount the whole week, you were randomly craving pickles, and everyone was pissing you off. you knew something was up, so you took a test not really expecting anything more than having weird mood swings.

but your eyes dropped as the two lines formed, clear as day. you rubbed your eyes and splashed water on your face, trying to tell if you were dreaming or not. but no, the two tests that you'd taken were reading the same. but it was only because they were the cheap ones right?

so you threw them in the garbage and ran to get a 40 dollar one, internally crying at how expensive it was. the result was the same though, pregnant now being spelled out for you. making you externally cry.

you had to tell him, you had to tell him now. you called him after a while of pacing around your room and sobbing. dialing his number, he picked it up on the first ring. “yo?”

“katsuki, come to my room right now.” he could hear your sniffles on the other side of the line, could practically hear the frown on your face. “goin’.” was all he said before declining.

you paced around your room, holding the stick in your hand. he bursted in, little regard to your dorm neighbors as he shut the door behind him and walked in. “babe? what's wrong?” he grabbed your face with his hands, making you look at him.

the look in his face made the tears come back full force, barely able to get a sentence out as you showed him the test.

he took it out of your hands, examining it thoroughly. your sobs started to subside, but he had a look on his face that made you feel sick.

“is it mine?”

your face scrunched up in a mix of emotions. embarrassment, horror, anger. you think you would've killed him in that moment if you weren't so out of it.

“what?”

“fuck– i didn't mean it like that.”

“how else could you mean it?” you glared at him, your heart aching as you felt the tears burn the tips of your eyes again.

“i'll.. i'll be right back. okay?”

he left you, scared and alone. betrayed and upset. and he left you a liar.

your prom was far from a dream, you deciding to not even go because the dress you had chosen matched his.

your graduation was horrific, you couldn't walk up the stage because you were two months pregnant, slow and irritable. always exhausted.

you ignored him like the plague. the girls in the class knew what had happened, you guessed mina would let it slip one day. not like you cared, you were gone and working at an agency. they wanted you for your quirk, but liked you so much they'd wait a year until you were healed and ready.

—

two years. your son was a year old already, you were a hero who climbed the charts quickly because of your charms, and you'd assimilated to your job easily.

that didn't mean you didn't take joy in going out day to day though, deciding to go out grocery shopping after picking your baby up from daycare.

he was, annoyingly enough, the spitting image of his dad. anyone with eyes would notice. he had your skin color, your hair texture, your nose and lips, but his eyes and hair color were reminiscent of the bakugo's.

as you were grabbing the baby popcorn, a familiar voice caught your attention, and made your baby boy babble in confusion.

“[name]? is that you?” it was.. mitski, katsuki’s mom who had adored you back when you started dating. “ah, ms. mitski, it's nice to see you.” your shocked expression did not go unnoticed by your son, who immediately mocked you.

“you're really grown up dear. i'm so proud of you for getting so high, and so fast too!” you kept her eyes locked on you, until moving and landing her eyes on him. “ and who is thi–” her voice was caught in her throat as she looked over your son.

her eyes went wide. “he's not–”

“thank you so much mitski, wish you the best and i still love you, but i'll be going now!” you muttered quickly before you rushed out the store, grabbing your son as your groceries were now forgotten. he giggled unknowingly, babbling a couple words from the conversation as you ran to your car. you buckled him in to the car seat and dipped.

meanwhile, katsuki, had been yelled at called by his mother to go visit her asap. he relented, having the afternoon off. he drove over to the residence, knocking on the door and being greeted by his dad, who was surprised at his presence.

“ah, katsuki? what a surprise!” he let him in, where his mother was sitting with a pissed off aura at the dining table.

“brat. sit down.” she was oddly calm, this was worse than her yelling at him.

he sat down in front of her, eyes squinted as he tried to read her to no avail. “what is it hag? todays my day off and i don't want to spend it arguing with you.”

“why didn't you tell me i have a grandchild?”

the room went so silent you could hear his father's gasp. katsuki swore she could hear his quickening heartbeat, as she pushed on him even further. “you told me that she cheated on you, that she had left you. was all that just a lie then? don't lie to me again katsuki bakugo or so help me–”

“fine! yes. it was a lie. i lied to you and i left her, are you happy now?” he stood up to match the offensive nature of her position, both of them glaring at one another.

“you are going to go over to her, and you will apologize katsuki bakugo. and you will mean it!”

“don't tell me what to do!”

“i think i will, especially since i didn't know i raised a fuck up!”

he slumped back into the seat, knowing she was right. he did fuck up, he was an absent father and a horrible boyfriend. it still didn't even feel right to call you an ex. he dragged his hand down his face in frustration, all the feelings he'd wrangled to the back of his mind for two years resurfacing now.

“does.. how does the baby look like?” he whispered, being vulnerable for the first time in a while.

“look in a mirror, kid.”

that was all he needed, the final push he got to get off his ass and beg for you. as he wandered down the streets, getting your address from mina who babysits for you often.

it was selfish, he knew that, to waltz into your life when he pleased. after not messaging or calling for the entirety of your pregnancy, for the year of life your son had gone through already.

at the doorbell, you'd assumed it was the guy you paid to get take out and groceries. you, with your son crawling slowly behind you like a baby duck to its mother, walked up lazily.

“hel–lo.” your eyes dropped as you saw who was at the door, the new number one hero dynamite, roses in his hand. “hey.. [name].” he said softly, a stark difference than the last time he'd spoke to you.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your eyes wide and panicked. “how do you know– why'd you even come?”

he felt awkward under your gaze, a hand behind his head. “i um.. got it from mina. and my mom saw you earlier so–”

“so you just– just come to me like nothing happened? like you didn't leave me willingly?”

“[name]. it was complicated.”

you sucked in a deep breath. “you don't think i know that??” you stuck an accusing finger in his chest, “you don't think i had to give up everything for this? whatever issues you thought you had, I had ten times worse katsuki.”

your eyes were welling up with tears. he felt the urge to comfort you, but he had no right. he knew that. “can.. can i come in?”

you looked at your son, who was now holding your leg and back up at the man in front of you. sure, it'd be fair to not let him see his kid, but it wouldn't be fair to your son. “...fine.” you leaned over and picked him up,

he followed you inside, looking over your house. it was cute, small, cozy. decorated exactly how you liked, how you told him your shared house would be one day. if only he hadn't ruined everything.

“it's pretty here.”

“hm..? oh. thanks.” he saw you sigh, then hand over your– his son. one that he shoudve never doubted, because he was almost his spitting image. “he's a year old, his birthday was back in november.” he held him close to his chest, seeing the way his eyes brightened at the sight of him. “he's.. adorable.” he whispered, regretting the time he'd missed away from this bundle of joy you'd made together.

he sat down on the couch, taking care of him as you took a nap. it was eleven at night when you awoke, groggily walking to the living room to see the two cuddled together, peacefully asleep.

you sighed. he was going to flip your life around again.

the next morning, you woke him up with a poke to the cheek. “katsuki? hellooo?” he grumped as he awoke, the sight of your still feeling like a dream. “wake up sleeping beauty. we have to talk.”

oh. so it wasn't a dream.

he continued holding your son as you sighed, “listen. i'm not going to keep you from seeing him, but know that if you leave again i'll actually kill you this time. got it?”

he agreed, his apologies stuck in his throats next to the confessions of love. he said nothing, instead only looking down at the life you two had brought into the world.

he wouldn't mess this up.

it was like he wouldn't leave your house. practically everyday he hung out with your son, at least you didn't have to pay for day care anymore.

your son started to reflect him more and more, it was cutely infuriating. you and katsuki were cordial, but you still didn't realize how much he loved you. how he yearned to be a family again.

and some moments it felt like it, when you'd hang out as three. laughing along, hands grazing against each other, playfully slapping his arms like you used to do all the time.

yeah, he was down horrendous again.

it was his second birthday when he asked you to move in with him. he'd get down on his knees and beg if he had to, he just wanted to be a family. “please [name].” he started.

“i just want what's best for us all, and i.. i'm in love you. i want us to be a family, to live together, to spend everyday with you.”

he took your hands and held it close to his heart, “please?”

you agreed. it was for your baby.. purely for him. that's what you said and tried to convince yourself, though you chose to sleep in katsuki’s room most nights.

you didn't need that excuse anymore though, it wouldn't work even if you were the most delusional person on the planet. because you were laying in his arms, a ring on your hand as you slept through the morning together.

maybe one excuse wouldn't hurt.

#another dad!bakugo thank you #lilac's late night talks ✧#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo drabble #mha x you #bakugo oneshot #bakugo angst #bnha oneshot #mha oneshot #mha drabbles #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader

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azrielslittleslut · 2 months ago

Note

I have a lil angst/fluff request if your still taking them. Its a single dad azriel x reader. Where he had a baby with Elain but she took off with Lucien and she left Az with the baby (lets say baby is 6 months old and has no wings). Az is kinda freakin out cuz babies and him hes a lil scared on what to do. While on a mission in day court Az then meets reader who has the most beautiful white feathered wings and hes instantly mesmerized. Hes there for such a short amount of time so he decides to shoot his shot and lands himself a few dates (not once mentioning hes a father). He notices once or twice that reader will not engage or awknowledge babies when or if they smile and coo at her, but he thinks nothing of it. On his last night in the Day Court the bond snaps for him ( but not for her) and hes so so freakin happy, he invites her to Velaris to visit his family and meet his son. Hes a lil nervous about it and when he finally introduces them shes so cold and distant, wont even hold the baby or look at him. She flys back home that same night and tells Az some lame excuse that hes nice but he should have started out saying he had a son. Anyway long story short turns out that she had struggled to have a baby with her husband, and when it finally happend she had a rough birth but holding her baby in her arms was worth the wait.

*Trigger warning*

In the end she felt she failed as a mother and couldnt protect her baby from an enemy she had made from being her husband had also died trying to protect their child, so seeing children was just too painful for her and so she tried to avoid at all costs. I see it going both ways Az waiting yrs for her to heal and coming back for her, Or Az and them working and healing together, You can end however you see fit, or not at all of its too triggering. I just hardley ever see single dad Az freaking out over a lil baby. And scared af reader.

"Wounds"

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: talk of child loss/difficult pregnancy, angst, language, fluff, Az being a worried dad, slight Elain slander, happy ending:)

Word Count: 7.8k

a/n: anon, i know this took ages, but i wanted to get it right. i personally have never experienced this, but i hope i did it justice. my thoughts go out to everyone on here who has experienced child loss or hard pregnancies! <3

Enjoy!

"Please stop crying. Please," Azriel begged, his eyes looking worriedly down at the bundle in his arms. No amount of coddling or singing or rocking seemed to soothe the baby, and he was at his wit's end with exhaustion. He held his son close, savoring the warmth radiating from him. "Come on, Ky. What do you need?"

Kyrell, or Ky for short, looked up at Az, his eyes full of tears. His eyes were dark brown, just like his mother's, and Azriel felt a sharp pang in his chest every time he looked at his son. Those eyes brought back memories full of joy, but mostly pain. Azriel couldn't stop his mind from going back to a little over a year ago, back to that day that had changed everything.

"Are you sure, Elain?" Azriel asked, his voice full of anxiety. His shadows swirled around him, sensing the stress of their master. "Have you talked to Madja?"

Elain squared her shoulders, her face like stone. "Madja was the one who confirmed it. I am sure." She rested a hand over her flat belly. "She said I'm only a few weeks along, but she doesn't think the babe has wings."

Az felt a rush of relief wash through his body. He didn't want to remember what had happened with Feyre, and he would rather die than watch Elain suffer the same way. "Are you... happy? I mean, this was unplanned. We were so careful... I don't know how this happened."

They had both been taking the contraceptive tonic, not willing to take any risks since they were so secretive about their relationship. How had this happened?

Elain took a step forward and took his hands in hers. "I am happy, Az. I've always wanted to be a mother," she said, her voice soft. "Yes, this is unexpected, but this baby is a sign of our love. The outcome of a wonderful and beautiful joining that even the cauldron itself couldn't stop."

Azriel's heart swelled in his chest. He pulled his hand from hers, lowering it to rest on her belly. He could already imagine the life growing inside of her, the future they would have together. He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her hair. "I don't know how to be a father," he admitted. "But we can figure it out together."

Elain wrapped her arms around his waist, careful of his wings. "Together," she agreed.

Those had been fake words and empty promises. Only a few days after Ky's birth, Elain had disappeared quite literally into the night, leaving everything she owned in the townhouse. Az had returned from a short mission in Winter Court to his son crying in his crib and a note on the nightstand saying that Elain had left to be with Lucien. That she had decided to accept the bond and live with him. That she wanted to leave Azriel and their son to live a happy and carefree life.

Unfortunately, being the single father of a newborn didn't give Azriel much time to grieve, or even be angry, about what happened. So he had done what he always did and buried his feelings deep down into his soul. He had a baby to take care of, and he was afraid of what could happen if he let himself feel.

Ky's wail tore through the room, bringing Azriel back to the present. He had cried like this almost every night for the last few weeks, and Azriel couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't cut out to be a father. He couldn't do this. He should have been more careful with Elain. He should have-

"He's teething," Feyre said from the doorway. She made her way into the room, her footsteps light. "They cry like that when they're teething."

Azriel looked down at Ky as he said, "Does that... hurt them?" He ignored how stupid the question sounded as he asked it.

Feyre smiled softly as she held her hands out. "It's uncomfortable for them, and crying is the only way they can tell you. May I?" she asked, her brows raised in expectation. "I do have some experience with this, you know."

Azriel gently handed Ky to Feyre, his wings drooping to the floor. He had moved into the River House after Elain had left. He had tried to do things on his own, not wanting to inconvenience his family. But after a few weeks of not sleeping, or eating for that matter, Rhys and Feyre had all but dragged him into their home, stating that if he didn't move in with them, they would order it as his High Lord and High Lady.

It had been difficult at first, but now he was so thankful for their help. They knew how to raise a baby because of Nyx, and he gladly accepted any advice they offered. They kept their distance, though, allowing Az to figure out fatherhood on his own.

"I'm sorry if he woke you," Az said quietly. "How long does this last?"

Feyre smiled down at Ky, her hand running over his tuft of black hair. "Until their teeth come in." She looked up at Az, and her face hardened as she saw his expression. "This is normal, Az. Healthy, even. It means he's growing, which is a good thing. But for tonight, Rhys is whipping together a salve we used on Nyx to help with the pain. He should have it ready in the next few minutes."

Azriel released a breath, his shadows moving to swirl around Ky. His shadows loved his son, loved swirling around him to make him giggle. "Thank you," Az murmured to Feyre. "For... for all of this. I don't think I would be standing if it weren't for you and Rhys."

Feyre smiled, her eyes bright with emotion. "You're welcome, Az. I would never let one of my closest friends and nephew suffer." She winked at him. "Besides, who else would babysit while you go on a mission?"

Right, his missions. Since Ky had been born, Azriel had gone on a few missions, but he had reluctantly learned how to delegate the harder ones to his spies. He couldn't risk something happening to him now that he had a son to raise, so he only took the easier ones, and he was never gone for more than two days.

"Ky does love to play with Nyx," Azriel murmured quietly as if that was a good enough reason for his son to be left here while he was gone. What would Az do when Ky got older? How would he explain to him the details of his job to his son? What if Ky didn't-

Az was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize Feyre had moved closer to him. "Speaking of missions," she said quietly, her voice low. "Rhys needs you to go to Day Court. Nothing serious, of course. Just routine surveillance."

Azriel nodded distantly, his mind going numb. "Of course. I can leave in the morning." His mind was already racing, preparing to become the shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and not a scared single father.

Feyre smiled softly, her hand cradling Ky's tiny head. "Don't worry about Ky. We will watch him."

For a few moments, the world narrowed down to his sleeping son in his High Lady's arms. He looked so vulnerable and frail, and Az was overcome with a wave of anger and rage.

How could Elain do this to him? Azriel didn't care if she felt nothing for him, but how could she look at this perfect child and decide to leave?

Azriel locked those feelings away as fast as they came, choosing to ignore them rather than face them head-on. "I'll get the details from Rhys in the morning," he said finally. "A routine trip to Day Court can't be that difficult."

---

It turned out that a routine trip to Day Court could be that difficult. Immediately upon arrival, Azriel quickly realized how much training his spies here lacked. He had spent hours rehashing the basics—how to blend into a crowd, how to remain silent in the shadows. These spies were supposed to be his eyes and ears, yet they couldn’t even follow the simplest of protocols.

Most infuriating of all, they hadn’t been sharing information with each other. One claimed to know about the political shifts happening within the Day Court, but when pressed, they admitted it was only rumors. Another had no idea about the movements of the court’s key players. It was as if they were all operating independently, blind to the larger picture.

Prythian was shifting, changing, and these people had failed to notice. Azriel’s temples pulsed with a dull ache, the constant incompetence chipping away at his already thinning patience. How had it gotten this bad? How had they let things slip so far?

By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the streets of the Day Court, he was no longer hiding in the shadows. There was no point. His headache had grown unbearable, a sharp reminder of how much he longed to be somewhere else—anywhere else. He thought of his son. He missed him fiercely, the boy’s infant giggle, the way his tiny hands would reach up for him when he returned home.

But now, he was trapped in this beautiful, sunlit prison, surrounded by spies who couldn’t even spy. The thought made him grit his teeth.

He had just turned the corner onto another street when he was stopped in his tracks. Before him stood the most beautiful female he had ever seen, but what caught his attention was her feathery white wings. They shimmered faintly in the sunlight, as if they had been dipped in iridescent powder.

"Hey, watch it asshole!" The yell came from a disgruntled bystander who didn't appear to be happy with Azriel's sudden stop in the middle of the busy street. With another curse, the bystander made their way around Azriel's hulking form, so obviously out of place here in Day.

Azriel shrugged it off, taking a step forward to keep walking down the street, but he was stopped by the sound of a lovely female voice.

"It's not every day we get someone from the Night Court around here," the female said with a smile.

Azriel blinked. It seemed that the commotion on the street had been loud enough to catch the beautiful female's attention. She now stood before him, her white wings tucked in tight.

"Am I that obvious?" Azriel asked finally. He had years of practice at blending in, and this female had called him out immediately.

She chuckled, the sound soft like wind chimes. "Well, black isn't really a Day Court color. And," she said, gesturing to his wings, "I don't know of another court that has winged males."

Azriel shrugged nonchalantly. "You never know. Maybe I'm from a court nobody has ever heard of. I could be an undiscovered creature, here to make a home in Day Court."

Azriel had always been good with females, never struggling to use his charms and looks to woo them. Hell, he usually didn't have to even say anything.

But right now, he honestly didn't know what the fuck he was saying. An undiscovered creature? If Cassian ever heard about this...

The female laughed again, this time tipping her head back. Azriel was mesmerized by the sound, his chest tingling. "You're not a creature," she said matter-of-factly. "You're Azriel. The shadowsinger."

Az crossed his arms, his eyes looking at the female warily. "You've heard of me?" He knew he had a reputation in Prythian, and it wasn't a good one. Normally, it wouldn't bother him if others knew what he did, but something about this female made him want to fall to his knees and repent for all of the wrongs he had done.

"Of course I have. You fought in the War." She was smiling at him, her cheeks dimpling slightly. "Besides, I've always been curious about shadowsingers, so it's only right that I would know about the only one alive."

His shadows were swarming him now, despite the bright sun. We like her, they whispered to him. She is different than the others.

Az cleared his throat, his eyes on her wings "Your wings... I've never seen any like that before."

She looked over her shoulder at her wings. "I got them from my mother, or so my father says. I wouldn't know. She died when I was young, and I don't remember her very well." Despite the dark turn of the conversation, her tone was light, her smile still plastered on her beautiful face.

Azriel found himself smiling slightly. "Well, they are very beautiful." He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as the compliment left his lips, but her bright smile washed it away.

"Thank you, Azriel," she responded, her eyes bright. She tilted her head as one of his shadows wrapped itself around her wrists. "I like your shadows," she said with a giggle.

His shadows never acted like this with anyone, not even Elain. With Ky, they were protective mother hens, but now, they almost seemed... enamored.

Azriel was not usually the type of male to ask a female out who he had quite literally just met. But he knew he would hate himself if he didn't at least offer her dinner, so after a few moments of watching his shadows swirl around her, he asked, "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"

She looked up from his shadows, her brows raised. She sheepishly bit her lip as her wings twitched. "I would," she said. She offered him her hand, rings glinting on her fingers. "I'm Y/N, by the way. I figured you would ask my name before asking me out on a date, but I have always heard of the strange Night Court customs."

Azriel took her hand, fighting the urge to look at his scarred skin against her perfect flesh. "My apologies. I, uh, I-" He struggled to come up with an excuse for his lack of manners, but he came up short.

She patted him on the shoulder gently. "I can forgive you. As long as you pay." She clicked her tongue, looking past him to the shops lining the streets. "Day Court is amazing, but I swear it has the most expensive food..."

Azriel smiled as he listened to her ramble on, following her as she made her way through the crowd. His shadows still swarmed her, but she didn't seem to mind.

After all, it was only one date, and then he would go back to the Night Court... and to his beloved son.

---

One date turned into three, and Azriel couldn't help but admit to himself how much fun he was having. He had not laughed this hard in ages, and even though he had only known her for two days, he felt more open and seen than ever.

He had told her all about his training in the camps, the wars, the Inner Circle. She had listened intently, even diving into her own life. It turns out that she worked at a small bookshop in the city, and she had two roommates in a small townhouse.

She seemed to have such a simple, perfect life, and Azriel found himself full of envy. He tried to fight it, but as he listened to her talk about her daily routines, he wondered what it would be like to live such a life.

"Why were you up at three in the morning, anyway?" she said with a laugh. They were walking down the streets, enjoying the quietness that came with nighttime in the Day Court. "Most people are asleep then."

Azriel paused for a moment. He had been telling her of the time he had found Cassian eating an entire chocolate cake with his bare hands in the kitchen. He had been up because Ky had been crying, and he had wandered into the kitchen for a bottle, only to find a chocolate-covered Cassian and a pissed of Nesta.

Azriel had told her many things, more than he had ever told anyone, but he left out the fact he had a son. He didn't know how to bring that up, afraid she would judge him, or worse... take pity on him for his unfortunate situation. The thought of someone feeling sorry for him twisted his stomach, and he wasn't ready to see that look in her eyes.

"I couldn't sleep," he said at last. "What? They don't have midnight snacks here in the Day Court?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Midnight snacks, yes. Three-in-the-morning snacks, absolutely not."

"Well, you're missing out. You should really try-"

Azriel was cut off as a young fae female walked up. She was pretty, with pointed ears and bright red hair. In her arms, she held a small child, no older than two or three. The child was wrapped in a pink blanket, sleeping soundly against the female's chest.

Azriel's heart clenched as a wave of homesickness swept over him. He missed Ky terribly. He knew he was doing alright, thanks to his earlier check-in with Rhys and Feyre, but he longed to be the one holding his baby. He could almost feel the weight of his son in his arms, the scent of him, the way his little hands would reach for Azriel in the middle of the night.

"Y/N!" the female greeted, her tone warm. "I haven't seen you around in ages! How have you been?"

Azriel's companion smiled, but he could see something dark in her eyes. "I've been... good." Her voice was tighter than usual, all signs of her earlier laughter gone. "And you?"

"Oh, you know. Tired all the time, thanks to the little one crying at all hours of the night." The female smiled softly, bouncing the child gently in her arms.

Azriel could understand that, at least. He would never forget the time he almost put his boots in the fridge instead of the milk because of his exhaustion.

"Yes, well. I've always heard motherhood can be difficult, but you look amazing- if that counts for anything." As Y/N spoke, Az noticed how she made it a point not to look at the sleeping child, keeping her eyes on her friend's face.

Perhaps, she didn't like children? Or maybe she wasn't really friends with this woman, and she was trying to appear uncomfortable to get out of the situation?

The other female's gaze lowered for a moment. "I am sorry. I.. I-" she stammered for a few moments before shaking her head, seeming to right her thoughts. "Right. Well, I'll leave you two alone." She smiled kindly at Az. "Enjoy your evening."

She quickly hurried off, leaving Azriel to stare at Y/N. "Are you alright?" he asked lowly, daring to place a gentle hand on her arm. Her gaze had gone nearly vacant, and he decided he would do anything to bring back the warmth from earlier.

She blinked whatever emotion she was fighting away. "I'm fine. That woman is always driving me up the walls. Always coming into my store, asking if I can spare any free books."

Azriel nodded, but something told him there was more to the story. He decided not to press it. "Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.

The two of them made their way down the street, once again laughing and carrying on as if nothing had happened. But there was still a shadow there, a voice telling him that there were still pieces of her that he didn't understand.

---

The mating bond snapping into place took Azriel completely by surprise. It was Azriel's last night in the Day Court, and she had been showing him her bookstore.

She had handed him a new arrival, her eyes alight with passion, when he had felt that snap inside of his chest. He had stumbled back into a shelf, his wings pushed against the wood, his hand on his chest. He was still struggling to breathe as she leaned over him, her voice soft.

"Azriel?" she asked, her tone full of worry. "Are you alright? Let me go get you some water-"

Mate. You are my mate. His thoughts were drowned out by a deafening ringing in his ears, and it took all of his self-control to not blurt them out in a fit of happiness.

After he regulated his breathing, Az forced himself to stand upright. "I'm fine," he murmured, his eyes on her face. She was looking at him with worry and shock, her arms out to catch him in case he stumbled again. "Are you- do you feel anything?"

Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. "No. Other than worrying about you tearing down my new bookshelf," she said, but there was a teasing smile on her lips.

I guess the bond only snapped for me, Azriel thought to himself. It made sense, of course, but it would make things a lot less complicated if she felt it, too.

It was in that moment that Azriel decided that she needs to see all of him. Where he comes from, his family... his son. If she wanted to be his mate, it would be on her terms, not his.

He ignored the voices plaguing his mind, telling him that this wonderful female would never choose him, especially once she realized the baggage he carried. No, he let himself feel this happiness, the first true happiness he had felt in a long time.

His mate. He had found his mate.

"You know tonight is my last night here," he said, taking a step toward her. "But, maybe we can have more nights together?"

She had been in the process of placing the book on a table, but her hand stopped as she heard his words. "What do you mean?"

Azriel bit his lip as nervousness filled his chest. "I mean I would like to take you to the Night Court. Just for a visit, of course." He smiled at her, feeling awkward for the first time in centuries. "So you can see all of the strange rituals we have there."

For a moment, Az thought she would decline. Her face paled slightly, and her lips tightened. But eventually, a beautiful smile bloomed across her face, like the sun rising at dawn.

"I would like that," she said cheerfully. "I haven't left Day in a while. Are you wanting to leave tonight?"

He thought his heart would beat out of his chest with happiness, but he forced his voice to remain steady. "We could, as long as you have everything in order here with the store."

She placed the book on the table and took his hands in hers. "I can talk to my roommates. They can keep eyes on the place while we're gone. I need a vacation, anyways."

Azriel laughed, the sound deep and joyous. He gestured a hand toward the door. "After you," he said. "I've been wanting to see what those wings look like in flight."

---

Her wings were the most beautiful things he had ever laid his eyes on. Even though it was dark, they shimmered under the moonlight, their color shifting to silver.

They laughed as they flew, and Az was surprised at how well she could keep up with him. She was able to follow his maneuvers expertly, dipping and rolling along with him. He made it a point to ask her who she was trained by later.

The River House was quiet when they landed. His shadows alerted him to the fact that Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Ky, Nesta, and Cassian were all inside, having just finished dinner.

"It seems that everyone is here," he murmured to her, taking her hand in his as he walked up the steps. "This is your last chance to turn back."

She pulled her eyes away from her surroundings long enough to look at him. "After I flew all this way? I don't think so," she said with a giggle.

He pushed the door open, his hand still in hers. He led the way into the small sitting room, the air warm and smelling of citrus and jasmine. His family was all here, seated in chairs around the fire. His eyes roamed the room, looking for Ky, and he found him sleeping in a small basket next to the fire. Nyx was sleeping next to him, the small boy having placed his hand protectively over the babe.

Azriel felt his chest ease at the sight of his son, safe and warm. He wanted to run to him, but he needed to ease his mate into this.

"Az," Rhys greeted, standing up from his chair. "We were wondering if you would be back tonight." He walked toward them, a smile on his face, but that smile faltered a little when he saw the female next to his brother. "And who is this?"

She stepped forward, radiating confidence as she introduced herself. "I'm sorry for intruding on your evening, but Azriel offered to show me around the Night Court. I've always heard lovely things about it."

Azriel met Rhys's violet stare. A stranger in Velaris, Az? Rhys asked into his mind. You were only supposed to go on a routine mission.

Azriel decided it was best not to beat around the bush. She's my mate. She means no harm. She is kind. And nice. And I wanted her to meet all of you.

Rhys nodded slightly. He raised a brow. Everyone?

Azriel glanced over at Ky. Everyone, he responded.

Rhys must have communicated with Feyre, because she gracefully walked over to Ky, sweeping him gently up in her arms. She smiled affectionately at Nyx as she moved over to Azriel. "He's been sleeping well," she whispered. "And eating well. I swear he's gained ten pounds since you were gone."

Azriel could no longer deny his paternal instincts, so he quickly took Ky in his arms, savoring the warmth radiating from his small body. "Did you miss me, little one?" he murmured to him as his shadows swarmed the baby, searching for any sign of distress or harm.

Azriel turned, a smile on his face as he found his mate's face. He expected her to be curious, or shocked, at the sight of a baby in his arms.

But nothing could have prepared him for the look of raw pain on her face as she looked at Azriel and Ky. "Who is that." It wasn't a question. Her voice was hard and tight, and Az swore she was holding back tears.

"This is Ky," he said gently, worry and fear creeping in as he took in her expression. "My son."

She quickly tore her eyes away, searching around the room. They fell on Nyx, who was still sleeping soundly on the floor, and she stepped back as a gasp flew from her lips.

Azriel could sense the unease radiating off Rhys and Feyre, already preparing themselves to defend their family. Cassian and Nesta stood next to each other on the far side of the room, their backs straight, their eyes holding predatory intent.

It was only Azriel, who was still holding Ky, who forced himself to remain calm. "Would- would you like to hold him? He's quite small, but he's so warm and-"

"NO!" she screamed, her body trembling as she stepped backward toward the door. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she covered her face with her hands. "I can't. No. No. No."

Feyre quickly stepped forward, taking Ky out of Azriel's arms. Calm her down. Now, Azriel, she whispered into his mind, but it was the voice of the High Lady.

"Come on," he muttered to his mate, reaching for her arm to pull her outside. "Let's go outside." She didn't fight him as he hauled her through the door and down the steps. The night air was cold, but Azriel didn't feel it.

He could only feel pain, anger, rage, and a hurt like no other. What had he said or done to send her into this kind of panic? Was the thought of him being a father truly so horrible?

Once they were outside, she ripped herself out of his grasp. "I'm going home." Her voice was distant now, devoid of any emotion.

He moved to step in front of her, his eyes pleading. "Please. Let me explain all of this-"

She pushed him out of the way, her wings unfurling as she prepared to take flight. "You're a nice male, Azriel," she said. "I... like you. I do. But you should have told me about this. About him."

Azriel fought the urge to snarl at her tone when speaking about his son. "Is it really that bad that I'm a father?" Though he was angry, his voice came out broken.

She looked at him then, her eyes softening slightly. "No. It's the fact that you don't understand. You could never understand."

"Then tell me! Help me understand!"

She shook her head as she pushed off the ground, his wings catching the air, hauling her up. "Goodbye, Azriel."

Her voice carried on the wind as Azriel watched her take off into the night, taking a piece of his heart with her.

---

1 year later

"Come on, Ky. You can do it!" Azriel encouraged, his hands out to catch Ky. The Velaris sun was blinding, but Az kept his attention on his boy, not daring to miss the sight of him taking his first steps.

Ky was standing on small, wobbly knees, his tiny face scrunched up in determination. He took a small step forward, then another, and another-

"Gods! You're doing it, son!" Azriel exclaimed in happiness.

Ky took one more step before his tiny legs gave out, but Azriel was there to catch him, as he always would be. He swooped him up, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. "I'm glad to know you got that determination from me, at least," he said to Ky.

Ky gave him a toothy smile as he giggled, his attention already captured by Az's shadows as they swarmed him, seeming to offer their own form of praise.

In the last year, Azriel had heard nothing from Elain. He had heard from his spies that she and Lucien had welcomed their own child into the world, a little girl who Azriel had not bothered to learn the name of.

A year ago, he would have been heartbroken beyond repair at the thought of Elain choosing to start a family with another male, even though she already had a family here. But since then, Azriel had taken the time to heal, choosing to let go of any bitterness and anger.

Ky deserved better than having a father who was pissed off at the world, and Az had vowed to himself to be the best father the world had seen. He didn't know what a good father looked like, but he was learning, and he had Rhys and Cass and the rest of his family to help him.

There was one part of his healing that he was struggling with though- his mate. The female who had quite literally flown off into the night at the sight of Ky. Az had not heard from her since that night, so he never got an explanation as to why.

He tried not to hold it against her, hoping that, if they were meant to be together, things would work out in the end.

"Uncle Azriel!" Nyx's voice, though the boy was small, boomed across the lawn. "Want me to take Ky in for his nap?" Nyx was the best cousin to Ky, always making sure the boy was eating and sleeping properly.

Hell, sometimes he was even more on top of things than Azriel was.

"Sure," Azriel said, placing Ky in Nyx's arms. "He just took his first steps. He deserves to rest."

Nyx's eyes widened. "He took his first steps and I missed it?" He blew out a breath. "You should have called for me!"

Azriel chuckled as he ruffled Nyx's black hair. "Sorry, kid. At least you were there for his first word."

In fact, Nyx had been the first word Ky had said. Of course, it had sounded more like "Byx" than anything else, but Nyx had gloated about it for days afterward.

Azriel watched Nyx carry Ky into the house, smiling to himself. It was moments like this that he was thankful for his life. Things had gotten better, so much better. He had a family now, a place where he belonged. A son, a perfect boy who looked just like him-

His thoughts were cut short as he heard soft wing beats from above. Not Illyrian wings, he realized, but something softer, like feathers.

Azriel squinted into the sun, watching small shape grow closer and closer, until the small body of a female landed in front of him.

But it wasn't any female. It was his mate.

"Hello, Azriel," she said, her voice soft. Her face was full of nervousness, and she was biting her lip and wringing her hands. She tucked her wings in tight. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

For a moment, Azriel could only blink at her. She's here. She's really here.

"No. No. Of course not," he blurted out, taking a step toward her. His shadows swarmed her, just as they had when they first met. She smiled down at them, but the smile didn't meet her eyes. "Why are you here? Are you in danger?"

She shook her head, her hair falling around her shoulders. "No. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She went back to biting her lip again as she spoke. "I've been thinking... I think you deserve an explanation of what happened last year. I owe you that. The way I reacted was wrong, and I want to explain."

"You don't owe me anything," Az said, running a hand through his hair. "I should have told you about Ky. It was wrong of me to force him onto you like that."

She smiled again. "No. You did nothing wrong. I don't know your situation, but..." She took a step forward, craning her head up to look at him. "I would like to hear about it now if you want to tell me. I promise not to fly away again."

Despite himself, Azriel laughed. He angled his head over to a small table and chairs Feyre had set up on the east end of the house. "We can talk over there," he said. "Nobody will disturb us."

The two of them walked in silence, the soft wind rustling through the trees. Azriel was nervous, not knowing what to say to carry on an easy conversation. He could feel the unease radiating from his mate, so he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut.

“You go first,” she said once they had situated themselves in the chairs. “My story is… well- just go first, Az. Please.” Her voice trembled at the end of her sentence, her eyes watery.

Azriel reached a hand over and laid it atop her own, squeezing gently. He took a deep breath before letting the painful story spill from his lips. He told her of Elain and the short romance that had followed the War. He told her of Ky's birth and the disaster that had followed. He spoke to her of his feelings, the feelings that he had not spoken to anyone, not even his family.

By the end, silent tears were streaming down his face, and he sucked in a breath as she gently reached over and wiped them away, her face full of understanding.

"She just... left?" she asked, her voice full of something like wonder, as if she couldn't understand how a mother could do that to her child. "And you've been raising Ky on your own?"

Azriel nodded once. "Well, mostly on my own. My family has been helping me, but that hasn't made it easy."

She took a deep breath, her eyes on his face. "I am sorry that happened. I don't think I would have survived that, if I were in your position." She paused for a moment, biting her lip.

"You don't have to tell me your story, you know," Azriel said, his tone gentle. "Believe me, I understand that some things are... difficult to discuss."

"I was married once," she said abruptly, her eyes moving to look at the city. "We were so happy together, but we were only missing one thing. A child."

Azriel's heart stuttered inside his chest as she spoke. He forced his face to neutrality, not wanting the warring emotions inside his mind to scare her.

She continued on, her voice vacant, "We tried for years to get pregnant, but it wasn't easy for us. We had so many false positives, and each time it happened, I felt as if a piece of my heart broke. We finally gave up, so we were surprised when I got pregnant a few years later."

"We were happy, so happy... but I had a hard pregnancy. By the third month, I was already placed on strict bedrest, completely forbidden to leave my bed except to relieve myself or get food. The labor was even worse. It took two days for our babe to arrive, but the pain and suffering was worth it to hold him in my arms. To hear his little cries and to feel him wrap his tiny hand around my finger."

Azriel watched silently as her eyes filled with tears, but he was too shocked to move. He had a horrible pit in his stomach, afraid of where this story was going.

"My family lived in peace for a few years. We had such a quiet life, you see, filled with so much love and joy... I never thought of how fast it could all be ripped away..." The tears in her eyes spilled over, coating her cheeks. "There was a male in Day Court. He was a harsh man, but he had always liked me. He was the one who taught me how to fly. He was in love with me, so he got angry when I got married, and even angrier when I had a child. I never thought he would do anything, though. I was so wrong..."

"One night, we were sleeping in our home. The male broke in and pulled my husband and me out of bed. I was so shocked, I was unable to fight, unable to do anything as I watched him go to my son's bedroom. I couldn't do anything as I watched my husband try to fight him off, only to get killed in the process. I was helpless as I listened to my boy's cries grow louder and louder, only to be silenced as he was murdered... Because of me."

She started sobbing uncontrollably, and it was all Az could do to wrap her in his arms, trying his best to shield her from the horrors of her memories.

She was breathless as she continued on, her face pressed against Azriel's chest. "What kind of mother am I? I couldn't even protect my own child when he needed me the most. I couldn't face what I had done, so I ran after that, moving into the capital city. I didn't even bury my son. There's no place I can go to honor his memory... I tried to forget my prior life, not telling anyone what had happened. My roommates don't even know."

She pulled away from him, tipping her face to look up at his. "That's why I ran, why I couldn't look at my friend's child that night. It's too painful for me to see a child. I get bombarded with these memories, and all I can see is my son's face, screaming for me to help him."

She was silent after that, her voice broken. So Azriel held her, trying to find the words. But there were really no words to offer a grieving mother. There was nothing he could say to heal these wounds.

Finally, he asked, "What was his name? Your son?"

She froze for a moment, and Azriel worried he had asked the wrong question. But she said, "Alek was his name. He..." She shook her head. "That night when I saw you with Ky... He reminds me so much of my Alek."

Azriel released a breath. "Thank you for telling me. I can't even begin to imagine what that must feel like," he said quietly. "But I need you to know- nothing could ever take away the love you gave Alek, or the love he had for you. You carry that love with you, and you hold onto it." He hesitated for a moment, moving his hand up to cup her face. "I'm here. For whatever you need- whether that's to talk, or to sit and grieve. Just know you're not alone anymore."

Despite her grave expression, she smiled. "Now you're starting to sound like my mate. I was wondering when the sweet talking would start."

Azriel gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You... you knew?"

She nodded. "The bond snapped for me before I flew off that night. I almost stayed, but I knew I needed time to heal before I could be the mate you deserved. So I left, and I've been working on my healing since then. I am better, but I still have hard days, so I understand if you need more time..."

Azriel cut her off with a quick kiss. "I still have hard days, too. But we can face them together. Nobody needs to deal with their problems alone. We can't let the hard days win."

She smiled, and he felt his chest warm as the life returned to her expression. "I would like that. Together," she agreed.

Azriel took a deep breath. "Would you like to see Ky? You don't have to if it will be difficult, but if you stay here..."

"I would love to," she said quietly, her eyes shining. "I'm alright. I want to meet your son."

Azriel led the way into the quiet River House, thankful that most of his family had left for the day. Once they got to Ky's room, he quietly pushed the door open, knowing he was sleeping.

"It's his nap time," he said. "It's probably best you meet him when he's not screaming his head off."

She smiled at Ky as she walked over to the crib, placing her hand on the rails. She looked up to Az, her face warm. "May I hold him?" Her voice was quiet and filled with awe.

Azriel nodded. "Of course you can, love."

Gently, she raised Ky out of the crib, cradling him to her chest. He didn't stir other than snuggling into her warmth, his small face innocent as he slept. "He looks like you," she said quietly, her eyes roaming Ky's face.

"Thank you," Azriel said proudly, a silly smile on his face.

She gasped softly as Ky wrapped his hand around his finger, his hand so small. He murmured contentedly as he slept, and Azriel realized Ky had never had this. Of course Feyre and Nesta had held him, but he had never had someone hold him with a motherly love.

Azriel's heart warmed at the sight, and he couldn't help himself as he walked over, and wrapped them tightly in his arms.

They stood there in the quiet, and Azriel swore he could hear the sounds of old wounds healing,

---

6 months later

"Where are we going, Az?" she asked, giggling as Azriel pulled her to the outskirts of the city. "There's nothing over here."

He looked back at her, offering her a wink. "That's what you think, angel."

The last six months had been filled with happiness, joy, and healing. They both had hard days, but they had been there for each other every time, honoring their promise to face it together.

Ky was growing faster than Azriel liked. He was walking and talking now, and he was even learning how to eat by himself. Just earlier this morning, Azriel had whined, complaining that his son would no longer need him soon.

She had slapped him gently on the arm. "That's what babies do, Az," she had said, kissing him gently on the cheek. "They grow, yes, but they will always need us."

She had become a mother to Ky, there was really no other way to put it. She would clean him and put him to bed, doing all the things that Azriel himself had struggled to manage with ease. A few weeks ago, Ky had called her "Mama", which caused her to cry with happiness and pain commingled.

The two of them were set to accept their mating bond next week, and Azriel couldn't be happier. They had learned so much about each other, and he had found himself falling more and more in love with this female each day. There was one thing he needed to do, though, which was why he was dragging her to this place.

On the outskirts of Velaris, there was an opening in the trees to a place where many people didn't go. At least, not those who had never experienced the loss of a loved one.

As they walked up the path, he could see the small stones poking out of the ground, their engravings holding the names of the people in the ground.

"Azriel," she said quietly, her hand tight in his, "why did you bring me to a cemetery?"

He smiled softly at her, leading her to a small stone, newer than the others, its engraving easy to read. "I wanted you to see this."

She looked at the stone, her eyes filling with tears as she read the words there.

Alek

"Forever Loved, Never Forgotten"

Though your time was brief, your light will shine in our hearts for all eternity.

In the embrace of the stars, you rest, but in our hearts, you live on.

Azriel watched her face as she read, worrying if he had chosen the right words to put on the headstone. Maybe he should have made it shorter? Was it too much?

He was pulled from his thoughts as she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, throwing her body against his. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said between sobs. "It's perfect, Az."

"I know his body isn't here, but you can come here whenever you like. To remember him," Azriel said as he held her, running his hands through her hair.

She pulled away then, her eyes bright with love. "I can't wait to be your mate," she said, smiling through the tears.

Azriel laughed, his heart full. The wounds of the past would always linger, like shadows that never fade. But with those you love by your side, even the deepest scars could begin to heal, and in their place, hope could grow.

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